Page 77 of Nobody's Hero
‘Stick it is.’
‘Unless not using the stickisthe carrot.’
‘In my experience, that never works. But go for it.’
‘You have information we need,’ Koenig said to Hobbs. ‘Unfortunately, there is no way for you to pass on this information without confirming what we already know: that you and your daughter are high-end contract killers.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Mr . . . ?’
‘Koenig. My name is Ben Koenig.’
Which at least got a reaction, even if it was just a widening of the eyes.
‘The fact you’ve heard of me confirms you are who we think you are,’ Koenig said. ‘And even if you hadn’t, your friends in the East Coast Sweeney gave you up. Here’s what’s going to hap—’
‘If you think we’re killers for hire, search our apartment.’ He smiled, some of his swagger back. ‘I assure you, there are no weapons here. No incriminating evidence. And in case you’re recording this, that’s because my daughter and I have committed no crimes. I’ve never had so much as a parking ticket.’ He took an exaggerated pause. ‘But you’re going to prison for a long time. All of you. Someone shot my daughter. Broke her fingers. Struck me on the head with a weapon. That’s aggravated battery times three. You tied us up. That’s abduction. We’re respected members of the community. I’m a businessman. My daughter’s a businesswoman. We’re not killers.’
‘She is,’ Koenig said, pointing at Nash. ‘She killed three men not thirty minutes ago.’
‘You did?’ Hobbs said to his daughter. ‘Why?’
Nash shrugged. ‘They put their hands on me.’
Hobbs’s lips tightened. His breathing sped up. The tips of his nostrils whitened. ‘Then there’s not a court in the—’
‘Exactly whatisyour business, Mr Hobbs?’ Draper cut in.
‘Excuse me?’
‘You claim you and Miss Nash are in business. If it’s not murder for hire, what is it?’
‘That’s confidential.’
‘It must be lucrative,’ Draper said. ‘This is an expensive apartment.’
Hobbs snorted. Didn’t bother hiding his contempt. This was getting them nowhere, Koenig thought. He needed Hobbs to understand he wasn’t in Kansas any more. ‘Can I have a word?’ he said to Draper.
They moved to the hall. Stood by the front door, out of earshot. Not out of sight, though. Hobbs and Nash were too dangerous for that.
‘I need you to do something.’
‘What?’
Koenig didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The realisation of what he was asking hit Draper like a sledgehammer.
‘You’ve got to be fucking kidding!’ she snapped. ‘All the shit you give me, and now, when it’s somethingyouneed, all of a sudden it’s OK.’
‘It’s not OK,’ he said. ‘It’s never OK. But it has to be done and it has to be you. Nash looks like she doesn’t have a care in the world, and we have to assume that Hobbs’s appearance is a carefully cultivated disguise. That underneath his shit-brown suit, he wears a second skin, one that’s just as insane as his daughter’s. We need something more nuanced than no-frills pain.’
‘Don’t ask me to do this, Koenig,’ she said. ‘I’m not sure I’ll get over it again. I witnessed this anddidnothing. I did this andsaidnothing. There must be another way.’
‘I’m all ears.’
Draper said nothing. Eventually she slumped, like an inflatable tube man with a puncture. After a few more moments, she said, ‘Which one?’
‘Her,’ he replied. ‘Definitely her. He’s thinking like a parent right now, not a killer.’
‘OK, Koenig,’ she said. Her spine stiffened. Her face grew hard, her eyes distant. Koenig wondered how many people had seen that expression before. And how many had seen it and wished they hadn’t. ‘But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. That means I talk, you don’t. There’s only one interrogator, and that’s me. You’ll do what I say, when I say it. No exceptions. It doesn’t matter if they want to talk. This isn’t just a case of threatening his daughter; he needs to believe we’ll kill her. That means I’ll have to hurt her. Are you OK with this?’